Bloodlines: Heart of the Nords
by kydensarita
Summary: After the Civil War, Ulfric Stormcloak finds himself named High King. Dragonborn Amaya Storm-Shield stays by his side, until a series of events takes her life in another direction. Will their slow-burning, tension-filled romance last, or will it crumble under the pressures of responsibility? Rated M for graphic depictions of violence and for smut.
1. Chapter 1 - Aftermath

The hall was long and dusty for certain. A single guard stood at the door, looming tall over Amaya's figure, watching. This was the day of the Moot; the day they had all fought so hard for. This was their reckoning. As they passed corners full of covered furniture, rounded corners filled with cobwebs, and descended creaking steps Ulfric became more and more visibly anxious. Amaya placed a single hand in the middle of his broad shoulders as she walked behind him, a gesture of support and comfort meant to steady the True King as he walked boldly toward his fate. His head turned slightly, just enough for her to catch a glimpse of a thankful smile. They were here. This was it. The Pelagius Wing of the Blue Palace had never seemed so claustrophobic.

As Galmar reached for the door to the room where every Jarl now sat, Amaya thought back to the start of the war. She had been so young, barely twenty one years old, when she found herself standing by Ulfric and Galmar in the war room of the Palace of the Kings, a place that would eventually become her home for quite a few years. She learned to strategize, she learned politics, and she had learned how to be a true Nord. She had been wed, she had raised children. She recalled moving out of the palace and into a home in the city with her husband, Avulstein Grey-Mane, and their adopted daughters Sofie and Lucia. She remembered her friends falling around her at the blades of the Imperial Forces at the Taking of Whiterun. She remembered taking Rikke's life with a stone-encased heart, and ending Tullius's with Ulfric's own weapon. She remembered it all.

The Moot was over faster than it began. Naturally, Ulfric became High King of Skyrim, and Amaya sighed heavily. Finally, the battle was over. Finally, there would be peace. It was fast approaching- a time for rebuilding, a time for restocking, a time for fortifying and defending. There would be no more brothers and sisters fighting each other. There would be only one Skyrim, under High King Ulfric, and Amaya found herself at peace with herself for the first time in years. The war had finally proven itself to be a worthy cause. She lightly embraced both Galmar and Ulfric as they stood alone in the Pelagius Wing of the Blue Palace. Ulfric thanked her for her diligence and continued support. Galmar all but crushed her in a merciless hug, howling praise as he lifted Amaya off the floor. The three climbed those steps once more, but this time, as the royal court.

Ulfric's first decrees were all political in nature. He ordered the previous Jarls, those aligned with the Imperials, put to death for high treason. While certainly a controversial move, it ensured that no one would rise up against the new king in an attempt to dethrone him. The only Jarl that did not face this fate was Elisif, who had escaped with the aid of the Thalmor after the war, much to Ulfric's chagrin. Rumor had it that she was immediately wed to a high-ranking Thalmor official, which would certainly not bode well for Skyrim in the future.

The next decree sent all of the young children of those Jarls to Windhelm. There, they were housed in the refurbished Hjerim Hall, Amaya's own home. She had called for it to be turned into a boarding school of sorts, complete with an education center and a multitude of sleeping arrangements. The children were taught what Ulfric called "a true Nordic education," in the hopes of fostering a more sympathetic view of the Stormcloak cause in them. The children could also be adopted, given that their education was completed. Amaya saw to it that the children remained well-cared-for, well-educated, and that they stayed with their siblings were they adopted. Having chosen the staff of the place herself, Amaya took great pride in the project, and others hailed it as equal parts "revolutionary" and "in poor taste." Amaya, herself, liked to believe the former.

Ulfric's final decree showed a sense of mercy. The older children of the unfavored Jarls were given a choice; become a housecarl to a new Jarl, learn from them, see their side. It was that, or be sentenced to a menial life of hardship, serving Skyrim as a miner or farmhand under strict watch of the Stormcloak Guard. Most, of course, chose to become housecarls. Those that did not, however, were shipped off to their new lives of toil and hardship.

Ulfric also handed out a few titles on this day. Galmar Stonefist was to become Jarl of Windhelm in his stead. Ulfric also asked that Amaya move her family into Proudspire Manor, and to accept the position of Court Enchantress, remaining permanently at Ulfric's side in his court. He also appointed Avulstein as Thane of Solitude, and offered his brother- who would join them later, living in what was once Erikur's house- the same title. Many other titles were appointed that day, and all accepted, leaving Skyrim united politically for the first time in many years.

The day flew by in a blur. All at once, it seemed, life in Skyrim began anew. Farms that laid in ruin after the war were ordered rebuilt. Families shamed for their ties to the rebellion were given honorary titles, changing the structure of wealth and respect in cities throughout the land. In a show of good faith, Ulfric even pardoned families with ties to the Imperial Army in hopes of lessening growing tension in what were once Imperial holds. He even- after much reasoning from Amaya- agreed to renovate Windhelm's "Gray Quarter" to appease the Elven population who grew worried about their fate after the war. It had been in Ulfric's original plan to expel the Elves, but realizing that another war with them was always looming on the horizon, he decided it was in Skyrim's best interests to keep their enemies close, as the saying goes.

So went the first day of High King Ulfric Stormcloak's rule. People rejoiced in the streets, captives of war returned home for the first time since their capture, and families made amends. While not everyone was happy to see Ulfric on the throne, everyone as happy to see the end of the war. There would be no swords clashing in the night, not tonight. There would be only music and celebration, and Amaya all but wept as she walked to her new home in Solitude, people prancing about her. Children ran in the streets, a straw man burned at the Bard's College, and ales of all kind flowed through the halls like blood through her veins. Skyrim was healing, and so was she.


	2. Chapter 2 - A Day's Work

Amaya awoke early from her slumber, stretching before she readied herself for the day. Her family had not yet arrived from Windhelm, where they were staying at the palace, but they would later in the day. Amaya had spent most of the night decorating, rearranging, and readying the house for them. Her housecarl, Jordis, had helped her eagerly. Jordis was a lovely girl with Nord blood in her veins, and she had been thrilled when she learned who she would be serving. The two women dusted, swept, lit fires in all the hearths, bought and cooked food, and made up rooms until the whole house felt like home to them. Amaya had even purchased Jordis a proper bedroom set, having it placed in her quarters downstairs while Jordis had been out collecting flowers and herbs for cooking and decorating. The manor all but sang out in the warm, familiar tones of a family home. Amaya had only bid Jordis good night when she felt everything was perfect, and now, she could only hope her family would be pleased as well.

After dressing and readying herself, Amaya took the steps to the Blue Palace early, wanting to get settled in before court was called. Her chambers were exquisitely bedecked in blues and silvers, a proper room for a Nordic enchantress. In one corner sat a large enchanting table, and in the opposite sat an alchemy alter. There were bookcases filled with the many tomes of her magical predecessors that lined the room, making it smell of the crinkled pages of old books and leather. There was a bed in the center surrounded by screens for privacy, had Amaya decided to live in the palace, which would have been customary had she not had a family. The whole room was luxurious, and Amaya stepped in, smiling like a child.

"What do you think?" came a voice from behind her. Ulfric's, she recognized, turning on her heel.

"It's lovely. Fitting for a place called the Blue Palace, I'd say," she answered, and Ulfric nearly smiled. He looked tired. "Late night?" she inquired.

"It's nothing. Just settling in. Getting used to things. It just doesn't feel like home yet, I suppose."

"Understandable. I can fix you a few droughts of sleeping, if you'd like. Might help."

"Perhaps. We'll see how today turns out."

"Very well."

With that, Ulfric nodded slightly, dismissing himself. Court would begin shortly. While Amaya was not required to attend, it would be a few days more before the remaining Thanes would arrive, and the court looked empty. Figuring Ulfric could use a friendly face, Amaya would join court halfway through the proceedings, after working for the remainder of the morning.

Time passed slowly as Amaya worked, her fingers deftly pulling together elixir after elixir. Piles of herbs turned into powerful potions at her fingertips, the once-bare shelves slowly filling with the fruits of her labor. After hours of meticulous handiwork the inventory stood strong before her, and she was pleased. Pausing to look over a particularly rare tomb that she had pulled earlier, she heard a rather soft gasp from the main hall, followed by the low rumblings of people speaking in hushed tones. Intrigued, Amaya lifted her eyes from the book, walking through her open doors and into the hall to listen.

"I meant no offense. I simply think that, now that the time for war has passed, it would be beneficial for the people to see their homeland's future secured," came the rumbling voice of a man, boastful in character. It was followed by the chiding of Greta, Ulfric's appointed Steward.

"Addvar, this is hardly the place for this conversation."

"I am just coming to the king with the words that no one would say to him. He has a right to know, dear."

"It has been noted. Thank you. You may leave."

The bitterness in Greta's voice was nearly palpable as she spoke, her words sharp enough to rip through her husband's skin. _How embarrassing for her,_ Amaya thought, as she listened on in silence. Ulfric cleared his throat before speaking. He asked Greta if her husband was always so forward, adding to Greta's discomfort. Greta all but whispered her answer, replying with a short apology before calling the next matter to light. Deciding that perhaps her place was not at court, Amaya resolved to stay within the confines of her chambers until it was time for her to return home. While her body returned to work, her mind wandered to her daughters. She was beyond excited to be reunited with them. The thought of them running to greet her as she walked through the door made her smile unendingly, and so it was that time passed swiftly, memories of her family sweeping over her as she fulfilled her duties.

By the time that court was dismissed, Amaya had just finished her final potion. It was a drought of sleeping. She had assumed that Ulfric would likely call for one. The day, it seemed, had been particularly trying; in all the years that she had known him, he had never spoken to her about the affairs of the heart. Not of women, not of love, and certainly not of marriage. Figuring it to be outside of his area of expertise she had suspected that perhaps the mention of it had rattled him enough to give him pause, and pause was all Ulfric needed to lose a night's rest. As she shut and locked the doors to her space, she took notice of Greta and Ulfric going over the day's complaints and requests. She joined them, welcomed by Ulfric, who stepped slightly aside to make room for her. Greta spoke animatedly, reading from a list she had kept.

"We had many requests for a burial ceremony for those taken by the Imperial Army. This includes many hundreds of soldiers in the field whose lives were cut short in battle, and for those like my own brother who were executed for treason."

"Consider it done. I will send word to Rorlund. We will take a day, here, in Solitude. We will call it the Day of Remembrance. I would be especially honored to speak of your brother to the people, would you allow it."

"How kind of you, that does my heart good. I would appreciate that. I will send out word to the public. All we must do is pick an official day for it. Perhaps on a Loredas or Sundas, as a day of rest, where the people can attend masses?"

"I like it. I will leave it up to you, I have made enough history. Is there anything else?"

"The farms you ordered rebuilt are coming along swiftly. The people seem pleased. I hear talk that many call you a king of the people. You should be proud, that was a wise decision."

"It was the right choice for my land. These people feed us, sustain Skyrim. It was best for everyone. I am pleased that construction goes well."

"There's… Only one other thing."

"I was wondering if you'd bring it up. I know. I will think on it. Your husband made a fair point."

"Forgive him. Sometimes I truly believe that man doesn't know when to stop talking."

"It's nothing. It's good to know there are honest men left in Skyrim, at least. Go home to him, Greta. Give your family my regards. Thank you."

Greta smiled solemnly, said her goodbyes, and left. Ulfric turned to Amaya, and the two spoke briefly on their days. He waved for her to follow him to his chambers, where he called a servant to pour out two glasses of Black-Briar Reserve. The two settled down at the small table in his quarters, speaking quietly on the day's events and reflecting on the discussions of the court. Amaya knew it would only be a matter of time before one of them brought up the prospect of marriage again, but she did not expect Ulfric to be that person.

"What do you make of the idea?" he asked, rather out of the blue. They had been discussing tax rates in the holds previously, and Amaya was a bit taken aback by his candidacy on the subject.

"I'm not sure. I don't think that my opinion should have any sway, though. Have you ever given marriage a thought?" she replied, equally as open. Ulfric paused, and when he spoke, his words seemed heavy and deliberate.

"My mother and father were very much in love. Before High Hrothgar, before I left them, I would watch the way they spoke to each other. The way they looked at each other, even. Everything they did, they did with the other in mind. Even as a young boy, their love was so obvious. It was something that I always assumed I would find one day," he started. Amaya nodded in response, regarding him without words. He continued.

"When I took Toryyg's life, Elisif was… She was shattered. She loved him, and it showed. All I could think about, all I could see, was my father's face on the night I came home after my mother passed away. She had been sick. We knew it was only a matter of time. That didn't make it any easier. I did that to Elisif, and no matter how prepared she was, there is nothing in this world that can prepare you for the loss of your soul mate."

"Ulfric…"

"I know it was for a reason. I had cause. I had justification. But that doesn't change anything."

"What are you saying? That you never found love because you didn't deserve it?"

"No. I'm saying that love is once in a lifetime, and if I'm going to be married, it cannot be for a political alliance or to please the people. They deserve a queen, but I can't force myself to marry someone I have no love for. It would be an injustice. It would be disrespectful to my parents, and to the king before me. I had no great love for him, but I do have a great respect for the bond between husband and wife. I hope that makes sense."

"It does. I just hope you find the love you're waiting for."

"Perhaps I have missed my chance," he finished, downing the remainder of his glass in one fell swallow. Amaya half smiled.

"Tell you what," Ulfric panned, "Put together a list of available women. That sounds archaic, I know, but listen. You're one of my most trusted friends, and I hope you know that. You and Stonefist are the only people I would trust this with, but he's not here, and I feel like this is better in your hands regardless. Make a list of people suitable for marriage, and I will court them, and we will go from there. Is that doable?"

"You're right, that does sound archaic. I will do my best regardless," Amaya replied, rising from her chair.

"That's my girl. Speaking of, aren't your girls home?"

"They are. Avulstein too."

"And I hold you here captive. Go home. Give them my regards. Will I see Avulstein at court tomorrow?"

"That you will," she said, taking the drought of sleeping from her satchel and placing it on the table before him. "But for now, get some rest. It has certainly been a hectic day."

"You're always at my back. Good night, lass."

"Good night," she replied.

Making her way home, she could see the lights from her house coming down the walk from the palace. She could hear her daughters and her husband speaking animatedly before she even opened the door, and was overcome by them before she could close it. They spent the night eating and making merry, and when the girls were put to bed, Avulstein pulled Amaya into their chambers. He had wanted to try for a child of their own for years, and now that the war was over, it had come up again. Without reason to tell him no Amaya consented, and they spilled into their bed, entangled until satisfaction overcame him. After that they slept, and Amaya dreamt of Windhelm's bitter cold until morning's light.


	3. Chapter 3 - By the King's Decree

Chapter Three – By the King's Decree

As the weeks passed, Ulfric's days became more and more busy. Court was always full of people and problems to be heard, there was always some troublemaker left over from the war causing problems, and there was never any time for it all to be finished. For her part, Amaya was placed in charge of healing the remaining battle-torn soldiers that were being treated at Castle Dour. While most were simply waiting for a family member to escort them home- as many were too weak to take the trip alone- there were a few patients whose wounds were much more serious, and thereby in need of a steady supply of healing potions. In one or two cases, some soldier's wounds required healing spells to be administered hourly, making it difficult for Amaya to be away from Castle Dour for any extended period of time. As long weeks turned into long months, Amaya found herself still within a short walk of Castle Dour. While most of her patients were doing well, some of the grievously affected were just simply not ready to be without her care. She still had her nights, however; the Temple of Kynareth in Whiterun had sent a few of their healers. The demand for them in Whiterun Hold had lessened at the tail end of the war, when all of the major battles pushed further northwest, wreaking havoc elsewhere. Amaya was grateful for their help, and at the end of her day she would wish them well and return to her family.

While her daughters were finding life in Solitude to be quite to their liking, Avulstein was growing more and more discontent with each passing day. Sofie and Lucia had each found a niche within the city that fit them well: Sofie had taken to training with the soldiers in the courtyard of Castle Dour, and Lucia had begun studying magic from the healers that came in from Whiterun. The arrangement pleased Amaya, as her daughters were always nearby should she want to see them. Avulstein, on the other hand, found life as a Thane of the Hold to be boring, inconsequential, and overall miserable. He found court to be filled with the whining of miserable milk drinkers, Ulfric to be too gruff for his liking, and the Hold's problems to be miniscule and insignificant at best. He could be heard grumbling about one thing or another at the dinner table each night, and Amaya only hoped that his brother would arrive soon with his attachment. They had been stationed out past Riften, so Amaya knew the wait would be long, but Avulstein's incessant complaining made everything seem longer.

To make matters worse, they had still not conceived a child. Amaya had spent the past weeks concocting and consuming all manners of fertility potions, from the mundane to the obscure. She had prayed at temple to both Mara and Dibella for assistance, but it seemed that neither had answered her prayers. As for Avulstein, he too had been downing elixir after elixir in hopes of finding a solution to the issue. After months of trying everything, and after a particularly trying day in particular, Amaya returned home to find that Jordis had made supper for the family. Avulstein was already washed and seated, awaiting his wife and daughters, when Amaya walked wearily into the kitchen with her daughters in tow.

Avulstein raised a brow at the trio. Amaya was spattered in blood; a patient had fallen out of bed after forgetting that his leg had been amputated below the knee, knocking his face on one of the small side tables that held a tray of doctor's tools. One of the small blades had nicked him in the arm, and as Amaya had helped him up, his blood had fallen haphazardly down her apron. Sofie was covered in dirt, as she had been running an endurance course at training. Lucia was the only one that was even close to presentable, but she was worn, tired after a day of working high-level magic on injured men. Overall, they were a pitiful sight for sure.

"My Thane, I'll run a bath for you. Here, give me your apron, I'll scrub it out. I'm sure there's something in the cellar that will do the trick," Jordis spoke, her voice calm and even. Amaya gave her a thankful look as she raised her apron over her head, giving it to Jordis. Amaya asked to be excused, wanting to bathe more than anything else. Her very bones ached, and a hot bath would do her wonders. She bid her family eat without her, and as Jordis poured water from the well into their grand bath in the cellar, Amaya reached into the water and heated it with a simple fire spell.

"I was going to put the coals on. Would you prefer I leave you to it?" Jordis asked.

"You've worked hard enough. That supper looked delightful. Please, Jordis, forgive me. I'm just absolutely winded."

"Of course. It's nothing. If there's nothing else…"

"The rest of the night is yours. Have a good one."

"I will. Thank you."

Jordis left Amaya alone in the room, the warm bath beginning to heat rapidly. She would let it cool as she lit the candles in the room and shut the door, stripping off her sweat-caked robes. She stepped gingerly into the tub, lowering herself into the water, a letting her hair out of the bun she had pulled it into. The long locks of golden brown hair tumbled easily into the water, and she leaned back, inhaling the steam as she did. This was exactly what she had wanted, and she was not going to deny herself the first luxuriant bath she had taken in months.

Working lavender soap into her feet and legs, she scrubbed and massaged until the aches were gone. She did the same to her lower back, also applying heat as she went, loosening the muscles that had spent the months tensed below her skin. She massaged shampoo made from red and blue mountain flowers into her hair, adding a drop or two of some oil of lavender to it for scent. She coated her face with a rejuvenating mask made from juniper berries, letting it sit as she went over the remainder of herself with the soap. As she lay relaxing, her thorough scrub complete, there came a gentle rap at the door.

"It's me," came Avulstein's voice, "I'm coming in."

"Very well. Let me dry off," Amaya answered, rising from the tub and reaching for her towel.

"No need…" he said quietly, the door opening just enough for him to slide through before he closed it again. He latched it shut behind him, turning to his wife. "The girls are already asleep. They were so tired. It's best we don't risk waking them."

"Why would we wake them? It's about bedtime for me, too."

"Then we should be quick."

Amaya, realizing then what he wanted, scoffed. She was in no mood for him to climb on top of her, do his business, and then roll off of her and nurse himself to sleep with a flagon of ale. This had been the cycle for months, and Amaya was sick to death of it. She wanted to sleep, thoroughly and peacefully, the entire night through. Avulstein, however, did not take kindly to her noise of protest.

"You know how much this means to me, Amaya. I want this baby. I want this family," he said, his words harsh. Amaya dried herself and wrapped the towel around her before answering, looking her husband in the face as she did.

"Perhaps in the morning, Av. I'm exhausted, I've been working all day, and I just want to sleep."

"We both worked all day. Why don't you care, why don't you want to have a baby?"

"You think I'm doing this on purpose? You think I'm _trying_ to cause this issue? I have done every damn thing you asked me to, I've prayed to Mara, I've prayed to Dibella, I even prayed to _Akatosh_ in hopes that he'd listen. I've made every potion and elixir and done every spell that has ever existed. I've tried things that work in theory, I've tried things that work in practice, I've tried it all. Don't you _dare_ tell me I don't want this."

"They laugh at us, you know! They laugh at our marriage! The wife with all the power, the man with women running his life! The man with no children of his own blood! It's shameful, it's unfair! If you're trying so hard, then why? Why haven't you given me a son?" he shouted. Amaya looked at him in bewilderment. Avulstein's eyes were wide, wild, and his chest rose and fell rapidly in his anger. He looked like a frenzied animal, and for the first time since the war, Amaya was afraid.

"I can't give you something I don't have. I can't make miracles. I can't make this happen."

"And you can't make children. I don't know why I bother. It's been a sham from the start."

He turned, unlatched the door, and threw it open. Amaya heard the lower door open and slam shut, and her ears rung with the sound. She stood in shock, letting her husband's words sink deep into her skin. She was nude, she was alone, and she felt very vulnerable.

Not wanting to wait for Avulstein to return home drunk, Amaya spent the night in her chambers at the Blue Palace. She had sent a guard to Castle Dour with a letter, telling the healers native to Solitude that, since the remaining soldiers were either in recovery or ready to be dismissed, she would no longer be needed for service. She closed the doors quietly behind her, not wanting to stir anyone in the castle that was already asleep. She worked for a few hours, silently reading by candlelight and taking notes. After a bit, she grew tired once more. She had packed necessities for the following day in a satchel, along with some smallclothes for sleeping. As she slid out of her simple robes and into her smallclothes, crawling into bed, she heard a rap on her door for the second time in one night.

"Who's in there?" Ulfric spoke, his deep voice recognizable to Amaya anywhere.

"It's me. Amaya. Hold on. Be right there."

"It's alright, lass."

"Sorry, one moment," she laughed, struggling to pull her robe back on before walking to the door, unlatching it. Ulfric looked at her warily, his eyes squinted. She motioned for him to come in, and after he did, she closed and latched the door once more. He sat himself on the edge of her half-made bed, regarding her with some level of confusion.

"What are you doing here? You never sleep here," he asked, and she could have detected something nearing concern in his voice.

"I'm just restless. Didn't want to keep Avulstein up with my tossing and turning. Figured I'd give the bed in here a try."

"Right, and your husband was just escorted home by three guards after he caused a stir at the Winking Skeever. You're a terrible liar."

"It's nothing, really. We just had a bit of a row. That's all."

"I've never known you to run from a fight," he spoke bluntly, his eyes looking her over. The gaze wasn't uncomfortable, but rather inquisitory, as if he were searching for something on her.

"What? What is it?"

"Amaya, did he hurt you? Put his hands on you?"

"Never touched me. I'm fine."

"You're sure?"

"Completely."

"I'm sure this is all just a big misunderstanding, then?"

"Absolutely."

"If you're lying to me…"

"I'm not. He'd never. It was just a shouting match. Nothing, really."

"But it still stands to reason that 'nothing' was bad enough to make you come here, so; do you want to tell me what happened, or should I ask Avulstein? One of you needs to say something. It isn't every day that one of your Thanes gets thrown out of a tavern, and I have to decide what I'm going to do about it. Personally, I'd not prefer to have to talk to him through the hangover he'll likely have tomorrow morning," Ulfric said, half joking. Amaya pressed her thumb and index to her forehead, frustrated. She sighed, speaking softly.

"It's not something that's easy to talk about. It's not something that's comfortable to talk about, either. I'm not sure you're going to find this fun for you."

"Finding a trusted companion locked in a room in your home is not fun, you're right. Just start at the beginning."

"We had been trying to have a baby. Avulstein has been crazy about it, ever since the war ended. I kept trying to put it off, I didn't want to bring a child into the world at a time like that, you know? It was too dangerous. I mean, I moved Avulstein and the girls to my house in the middle of the woods, near Falkreath, after I allied with you. I couldn't bear the thought of someone getting their hands on them, using them against me," she paused, catching her breath and returning to the question. "We've been trying for months now. It's been maddening. Absolutely horrible. If I have to drink another potion I think I'll rip my hair out. I'm just, I'm so tired. I'm so tired. I cut soldier's limbs off and was less tired than I am now. And I had a long day, one of my charges bled all over me. I just wanted to sleep. Avulstein, he wanted to try again, like he always does. But this time, when I said no, he completely unhinged. Yelled, slammed doors, said awful things. I have never seen him like that before."

"What did he say to you?"

"That people laugh at us, call him unmanly. Mock him for having no blood kin. He said our marriage was a sham."

"What?"

"I don't think he meant it."

"Does it matter?"

"At the end of the day, our wedding was a means to an end. By marrying him, we had a foothold in Whiterun. The nephew of the Jarl and a daughter of Skyrim. A story for the people. And it worked, for a while. He was a good father. Sofie and Lucia learned so much from him, and I know he loves them. He fought for you, his brother fought for you. When he couldn't fight anymore, he came here to support you. All he's ever done, he's done for someone else. You can't fault a man for wanting something for himself, Ulfric."

Ulfric listened intently, watching her as she spoke. He pondered her statement after she ceased, the comfortable quiet of two people who know each other well settling over the room. After what seemed like an eternity, and with a voice more solemn than Amaya had ever heard it, he spoke.

"And do you love him?" he asked her, stoic and stone-faced. "Or do you resent having to marry him?"

"I resent nothing done for the good of my country," she answered, "He was a good man. He still is a good man. He's a good father. But he is not a good husband, and I do not think he ever will be," she finished, looking at her king with nothing but honesty in her voice.

"When I asked you to marry him, do you remember what you said to me?"

"No, I don't think so."

"You said, 'if it means we're one step closer to pushing these Imperials bastards out of my home, then I will marry him.' And you did. I laughed at your ceremony the whole night. I've never seen you more drunk."

"That's… Embarrassing."

"No, it was endearing. Nothing could stop you. We needed you to find a magic crown? You did it. Rescue our captive men? You did it. Kill your own countrymen for the greater good of Skyrim? You did, even though I know it killed you. Amaya, you did what we needed, when we needed it. I never had to ask you twice," he paused, before he said "I shouldn't have done this to you. I'm so sorry."

Amaya was not sure of what to say. She was not asking for anything. She hadn't even called for punishment on her husband. And here was Ulfric, the High King of Skyrim, sitting on her bedside with her telling tales into the wee hours of the morning. Asking forgiveness for something she had readily agreed to, something she had made the best of for years. She was at a loss for words, and all the two could do was look at each other.

"These have been the best years of my life," was all she could manage, and Ulfric looked at her in incredulity. "The very best years. I watched my daughters grow into strong young women. I watched my country fall apart, and I had a hand in putting it back together. My marriage was not perfect. It never will be. But it was a part of something that I would never change. I do not require an apology for time well spent."

"May I say something else?"

"I think we're passed the point where you need to ask that, now."

"I'm terrified of marriage."

A smile spread like wildfire across Amaya's face. She could hardly hold back her laughter as she looked at him, and when he broke out into a grin as well, she lost her will to restrain it. Her laughter rang out in the previously quiet room like a wind chime on an empty street, and when she stopped, Ulfric was laughing too.

"You're not scared of anything! You're Ulfric Stormcloak, High King of Skyrim, Imperial slayer!" Amaya said, the faintest trace of a chuckle behind her words.

"I'm serious, the idea of marriage terrifies me. What if we hate each other after a while? What if she never truly loves me? How will I know?" he spouted, a half smile left on his mouth.

"Ulfric, being married to someone is a really good way to get to know them. Trust me. You'll know if they love you."

"I suppose so," he said, rising from his perch on the edge of the bed. He stretched slightly, stiff after sitting for a few hours. "Amaya, I'm going to speak to your husband regardless. If this ever happens again, you come directly to me. Do you understand?" he said, all traces of his former smile replaced with a stern look.

"Yes. Now please, get some sleep. Don't have nightmares about getting married, I promise it is not that scary."

"You will have an order for about a half ton of sleeping potions, if I do. Good night, Amaya. Sleep well."

"Good night. You too, Ulfric," she said, closing and latching the door behind him. Finally crawling back into bed, she smelled the scent of lavender rolling off of her hair as it pillowed under her. She drifted off to sleep thinking about Ulfric's smile, and how it was the first time she had heard him laugh. She dreamt of laying in a lilac field, smiling as she rolled amongst them, the arms of a man wrapped securely around her.


	4. Chapter 4 - A Drop in the Ocean

Chapter 4 – A Drop in the Ocean

After having slept peacefully throughout the rest of the night, Amaya awoke and dressed feeling more revitalized than she had in months. She could hear a low rumble coming from Ulfric's chambers, next to her own; it sounded like two men speaking heatedly, and a pit formed in Amaya's gut. She knew that it was likely Ulfric speaking to Avulstein about last night's events. She could feel the anxiety bubble in her chest. She busied herself with the making of potions for the kingdom's stock, hoping it would distract her enough to get her through the day.

Her planned worked, for the most part. She refused visitors for the day on the grounds that she was too busy. In reality, she was simply not in the mood for human interaction. She wanted to work, refill her shelves, and leave. She wanted to see her girls. She wanted to smooth things over with her husband. She wanted things to be right again. By the time that court was dismissed, she was already gone, having locked up her chambers as she left. She could feel Ulfric's eyes on her as she descended the steps, but she did not care. She wanted to be in the comfort of her home, surrounded by the people she loved most. She could hear her daughters before she saw them, and her face lit up as she pushed into the room.

They smiled and greeted her, each girl seemingly oblivious to the previous night's happenings. She was happy to greet them, and she listened to each of them speaking animatedly about their days as she sat and silently listened. When Avulstein came in after a bit, he too was greeted happily, and the family sat at the table and laughed like there had never been an issue in the world. When there came a knock on their door, Avulstein rose, looking around at his girls eagerly. When he swung the door open, Thorald stood there, his arms full of gifts for his nieces. They raced to him, embracing him, as Amaya and Avulstein stood hand in hand. Avulstein leaned over and kissed her forehead, even, and Amaya smiled widely at him. She felt at home, her girl's laughter filling the air, and her hearth burning brightly. She was in her element again.

After Thorald had given his gifts to Sofie and Lucia, he asked Amaya and Avulstein to help him get settled into his home across the way. They helped him move some furniture into the home, and Amaya- with the assistance of Jordis- decorated with flowers and herbs, working hard to make the place feel like home. The next day, Thorald and Avulstein would sit in court as Thanes to the Hold. Avulstein was pleased to see his brother, and that night Jordis and Amaya fixed a large supper for the whole family to share. All was well in the walls of Proudspire Manor, and when the night grew long and dark, Amaya laid quietly beside her husband. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead as she drifted off into sleep, without fighting. There was no pressure, only acceptance and rest.

The weeks passed without incident, so far as Amaya's family was concerned. Avulstein had not pushed the issue with her, and so she did not bring it up. She was not truly sure if she wanted to have a baby, and in her most private moments, she knew that Avulstein only wanted one to stop the people from talking about him. She did not, in truth, want to bring a child into the world for such selfish reasons.

Thorald was an absolute relief to everyone. He brightened Avulstein's spirits, he kept the girls busy. He was a very level headed Thane, and a good listener. He was a sufficient balance to Avulstein, much to the Hold's relief, and it showed. The air in the court was not so heavy, the people were less anxious to speak. Amaya even had time to work at home while Thorald and Avulstein took the girls around town, shopping or eating at some of the new places that had opened close to town. She had found time to compose the list Ulfric had called for; the list of potential brides to the High King of Skyrim. She had put quite a bit of thought and effort into its making, and had come up with certain ladies for specific reasons:

Nilsine Shatter-Shield. Nilsine had been chosen because she was from a prominent Nordic family, she had proper Nordic values, and because she was an inhabitant of Ulfric's hometown of Windhelm. Amaya found Nilsine to be the perfect match for Ulfric, in the sense that she was considered "a true Nordic woman" by the people.

Olfina Grey-Mane. Olfina was beautiful, level-headed, and hard working. She worked among the people, lending her services in temples and in Dragonsreach, where her uncle rules as Jarl of the city. She was loyal to the Stormcloaks throughout their siege, and had even publically ended things with Jon Battle-Born after the discovery of her brother Thorald's capture with the aid of the Battle-Born family. While she may not have been a perfect social match, were she to be wed to Ulfric, the people would take solace in knowing that the High King loved his people. If Ulfric were to wed Olfina, it would be a wedding for the people.

Aela the Huntress. While perhaps the most outlandish match for Ulfric on paper, Amaya thought that Aela would be the perfect warrior queen to Ulfric's warrior king. Their marriage would certainly be the union of legends, and that would be a wonderful thing to help reunite Skyrim. A few years had passed since Kodlak Whitemane's death, and most of Aela's friends and fellow Companions had been cured of lycanthropy. Amaya though that, were she to approach her in earnest, Aela would likely be willing to be cured herself.

As the days passed and grew shorter and the year passed slowly into winter, Amaya submitted her list to the royal court for review and approval. When the time came for a meeting to be held on the subject, Amaya was asked to be present. Even Galmar, who had been busy governing Windhelm, would attend. Leaving his brother Rolff in charge in his stead, Galmar made the long journey across Skyrim to join his brother in arms. The whole way to Solitude, Galmar heard whispers talking of Ulfric's bride to be; people placed bets on their favorite candidates, imagined how lavish the wedding would be, and even talked about the future children of the High King and his undecided bride. It was all very strange to Galmar, and upon his arrival, he spoke quickly to Amaya about his concerns.

"Good to see you, lass. How's life as court wizard treating you?" Galmar asked, gently hugging his comrade upon entry.

"I'm practically a princess. And how's being Jarl of Windhelm for you?" she answered, returning the hug in the warm fashion of two friends that have been reunited after some time.

"I'm certainly not a princess, that's for sure. But it has its perks."

"Glad to hear it. Shall we?"

Amaya ushered Galmar into the now-redecorated Pelagius wing. It had been refurbished in silvers and blues, much like her own chambers. Cleaned from top to bottom and furnished with more up-to-date items, the Pelagius wing was now home to a confined and well-guarded meeting place for the High King's most private and personal meetings. Inside the lowest room sat the King's Thanes, Thorald and Avulstein, his steward Greta, Amaya, Galmar, and the potential brides. Amaya's eyebrows rose at the presence of Ralof, who she had not known to have received an invite. Galmar nodded knowingly at the man, and then at Thorald. The three men, along with Ulfric, sat on one side of the long table. The others placed themselves on the other side and at the ends, most with their hands crossed on their laps, waiting. Ulfric cleared his throat, and the meeting began.

"Welcome, everyone. I'd like to begin by thanking you all for attending," he started. Everyone nodded or smiled in reassurance as he continued. "I'd also like to thank my court wizard and trusted friend Amaya Storm-Shield for taking the initiative to make this meeting possible. It is through her ingenuity that we find ourselves here today," he paused as a light round of applause started on Amaya's behalf. She bowed her head slightly before nodding at Ulfric, urging him to continue. He did.

"Let us get straight to the point, then. We have been called here to discuss the options for potential High Queen of Skyrim. While I have a great and encompassing respect for all of the women here before me, I have found that they would be best advised to seek out marriage elsewhere. And since I am a well-connected man, I did advise some of my closest shield-brothers to assist me in this manner. It was through fortune, and fortune alone, that they would all have such great personal success."

Amaya's head cocked to one side as she listened. She was not sure of what Ulfric had meant by what he was saying. Had all of his potential brides declined marriage? Had he himself given up on the thought? She sat in confusion as he went on.

"We shall start with my dearest Nilsine Shatter-Shield. She was known personally by me before I became High King, and it was an absolute joy to see her once more. I was even more overjoyed when I learned that she and my own thane, Thorald Grey-Mane, had found themselves enjoying each other's company. Without hesitation, I blessed the union, releasing Nilsine from any obligation she felt she owed me. May their union serve as a reminder to the people that love is alive and well. They wish to be wed within the month. I would be honored to officiate their union. They had agreed that it will be open to the public, to inspire the people to seek out love and joy in their everyday lives. I applaud these people, and name them Nilsine and Thorald Honor-Bound. May they find joy throughout their lives." Another round of applause erupted, and Amaya smiled. Ulfric went on.

"Next, the ever-loyal Olfina Grey-Mane. I could not, in good conscience, see each of your brothers wed and not have a hand in helping you, as well. That is why, when you came to me with tears in your eyes speaking of your love for a man that was not me, I was not angered. When Olfina came to me speaking of a man that made her laugh and smile, that danced with her, and that loved her earnestly, I knew I had no right to take that away from her. I should have known that the man she spoke of was Ralof, who had charmed the girl as his unit passed through Whiterun. Of course, I absolved Olfina of her obligations here, and sent her home to the man she loved. They are here today so I may tell them some news; I have procured the title to the small manor Breezehome. I am presenting it to you in a show of good faith and well-wishing. They are to be wed in a small ceremony, and the people will speak of how the soldier married his sweetheart, and they will rejoice. I name them Ralof and Olfina Storm-Pride. They have my eternal blessing." Another round of applause as Ralof leaned over to Olfina, kissing her passionately on the mouth. Avulstein squeezed Amaya's shoulder in exuberation, and she briefly leaned her head on his shoulder. Ulfric went on.

"I found out about Aela's own interests rather by mistake, about a year ago. When I saw her name on the list Amaya penned, I knew I would have to fight someone for her hand. It was a fight I was not willing to engage in. I knew that Galmar had claimed her as his own before her name passed before me, and though she is lovely, I knew she was not mine for the taking. The story of how I found that Aela and Galmar were seeing each other is not appropriate for this meeting, but I will share that the adrenaline of a battle does thing to a man that makes him wild inside, and I think that perhaps the seizure of Whiterun was the perfect opportunity for Aela and Galmar to see just how… Compatible they are. Galmar laughed in my face when I told him of the list I had asked for, and laughed harder when I told him that Aela's named had graced the page. I knew in my heart that I could not justify taking them apart from each other. There is no man in Skyrim that deserves more happiness than Galmar, and so it is that the Stormcloak's fiercest warrior will be united under the gods with Aela the Huntress, and warrior in her own right. I name them Aela and Galmar War-Forged, and I await the legends that will be written of their lives together. Gods bless you both."

With that, each man rose and asked for the hand of their beloved, pulling them to their feet. It was a sweet notion, and Amaya looked on in satisfaction as her siblings-in-law were held close to the people they loved. Nilsine and Thorald spoke animatedly about details of their wedding. Olfina and Ralof were eagerly reading the title to their new home in Whiterun. Aela and Galmar were laughing hardily with Ulfric. Amaya and Avulstein shared a small kiss. Greta smiled. As the room cleared, Ulfric asked that Amaya hold back, allowing him a moment to speak to her privately. Telling Avulstein that she would meet him at home, Amaya went to Ulfric.

"I hope I have not insulted you. It was obvious that you put a lot of thought into that list. I just could not justify denying the love they had for other people," he stated, looking at Amaya in earnest. She half smiled.

"There is no insult. I am pleased to see the brother and sister of my husband married. You have done them a great service by allowing them to be married to people they truly care for. You're a good man," she replied, a hand on his shoulder in reassurance.

"May I be honest with you?"

"Of course, my king."

"I still cannot bring myself to think of marriage, truly. Perhaps it is because I was not in love with any of those women that I was so able to let them go."

"The time will come, Ulfric. Don't worry. When you stop looking is when you're likely to find the person you're meant to spend your life with."

"Perhaps you're right. You're wise beyond your years. I'd have been dead long ago were it not for your assistance during and after the war. I'd be miserable now, were it not for you. You have my thanks. May the woman I spend eternity with be as wise as you are."

"She will come, and she will be exactly what you need."

"Perhaps. I will let you go. Thank you again."

Amaya walked home with her husband, who had been waiting for her outside. They spoke of the conference and of their life as newlyweds in the years before. They spoke of the weddings they would be attending, and the lives they would be a part of as time went forward. When night closed in fully, they lay next to each other in their marital bed, and Amaya thought that perhaps things would be better from then on for her and her husband-by-necessity.


	5. Chapter 5 - Mistaken

Amaya had been able to admit that she had been wrong before. She knew how to apologize, how to make a joke out of any situation. She had been able to look her superiors in the face before, admit her wrongdoings, and move forward. This time, however, she thought she would never be able to forgive herself for just how wrong she had been. Just when she thought that perhaps she would be able to give Avulstein what he wanted, everything fell around her.

It had been about two months since her fight with Avulstein. Since then, they had remained on good terms. He had not attempted to initiate sex again, and so Amaya had not, either. She found herself much too busy to pray, mix elixirs for herself, or even think about romancing her husband. Her days were filled with appointments, she had travelled to attend and officiate weddings, and she had seen the deployment of both of her daughters. Sofie had enlisted on the eve of her sixteenth birthday, and had been almost immediately sent to the Reach to train- and to help wipe out the remaining Forsworn, who had taken root in the wildernesses. Lucia had been personally asked to attend classes at the College of Winterhold, after they learned of her prowess in the Restorative Arts. She had eagerly accepted, and had shipped out only days after her sister's deployment. The departure of their children had since left Avulstein and Amaya quite alone, and Amaya could practically feel the tension mounting day by day. On this day in particular, Amaya arrived home early, hoping to surprise her husband with an evening of whatever activity he chose. By the time she reached the front door, however, she already knew something was entirely off. She clutched a bottle of Firebrand Wine in her hand, and she could hear its contents sloshing as she stepped into the house.

The entire place absolutely reeked of ale, as if someone had spilled a bottle in every room and poured a bottle in the fireplace. Jordis stood, weeping, in the middle of the room. Amaya approached her rapidly, placing the wine on the table before placing hands on either of her shoulders. She looked her housecarl in the face as the tears fell heavily from her eyes, inquisitive. Jordis did not respond, only held up a finger as if to silence Amaya. She then pointed upwards, heaving a sob as she did. Amaya's eyebrows knit together in confusion as she listened intently, gently rubbing Jordis' arm in a comforting manner. When she heard what Jordis had been alluding to, she felt sick to her stomach. All Jordis could do was whisper apologies over and over again as Amaya approached the stairs that lead to her bedroom.

She heard the moaning as she walked up the stairs. Loud, uninhibited gasps and giggles echoed through the loft as she met the door. Her hand shook as she pulled it open, softly, making no noise. The room was dark, and as her eyes adjusted, she stifled a sickened gasp. There, on her marital bed, was her husband in the throes of ecstasy with a woman Amaya had not yet identified. They kissed sloppily as the ground against each other, and Amaya immediately recognized the sour smell of booze pouring out of the room. They were what had brought that smell into her home. She watched in horror as Avulstein pumped himself in and out of her, her breasts bouncing. Avulstein came in short order, and the pair flopped onto their back, still locked in a passionate kiss. Amaya finally saw the woman's face, recognizing it as Lisette, the bard from the Winking Skeever. Having seen all she could bare, she back away slowly from the door, walking solemnly down the stairs.

The first thing she did was pop open her bottle of Firebrand Wine. She took out two flagons, normally used for ale, and poured generous servings of the bottle into each. Handing one to Jordis and keeping one for herself, they sat in silence at the family dining table. Each woman downed their shares easily. Jordis had since ceased crying, and now looked at Amaya with nothing on her face but pure pity. Amaya could hardly stand it. She poured them each another full mug of Firebrand. They were each about halfway through their second serving when Avulstein made his way down the steps, in nothing but his small clothes, holding a bottle of ale. Amaya lifted her eyes for only a moment, looking in mild incredulity at her husband. Upon seeing Amaya, he started. Amaya hardly looked up from her wine, then.

"How long have you been home?" he asked, walking over to her, attempting to kiss her forehead. She leaned away in defiance.

"Long enough," she replied, all but a whisper. She took another large gulp of her drink, and Avulstein finally realized the extent of her anger. She watched as the realization dawned over him. "How long?" she asked. He scoffed in return, turning abruptly away from her. He took a long pull of his alcohol himself, before answering.

"After you stopped putting out," he said, crassly. He had an unbearable smirk on his face. Jordis rose in indignation at his reply.

"How dare you speak to her like that? You are worthless. You are nothing. How dare you," she said, her words venomous. If words could hold the weight of a sword, Avulstein would have been laying in two. Avulstein did not respond.

"Months, then. It's been months. Have you always fucked her in our bed? Or hers, too?" Amaya asked bitterly.

"Enough, Amaya. Please. A man needs what a man needs," he retorted, laughing slightly. Amaya rose from her chair. She crossed the room in what could only be described as a furious charge, arriving at her husband in no time at all. The slap she issued across his face rang like church bells throughout the house, and Avulstein stood stunned in its wake.

"A man needs self control and respect for his wife. Not an illegitimate child with the local tavern wench," she spat, deadly close to a hiss. "Here's what is going to happen. Jordis is going to go upstairs and help your mistress get dressed. She will escort her out, and home, if need be. You are going to go upstairs and get dressed. Make yourself presentable. We are going to pay the High King a visit. Consider our marriage over."

Jordis was already up the stairs by the time Amaya was finished. When she returned, she was escorting a terrified Lisette by the arm. Avulstein had still not spoken. When the door closed behind them, Avulstein went silently up the stairs to dress. Amaya finished her drink, and Avulstein returned downstairs, dressed. He was no longer silent, however. He stepped near to her and Amaya stepped back, saying nothing.

"Will you not even let me try to apologize?" he asked somberly, putting a hand on the side of Amaya's face, soft and ginger. She smacked it away.

"The damage you have done is irreparable. Nothing you can say to me will mend the wounds you have caused," she said, looking him angrily in the eyes.

With those words, something in Avulstein snapped. He grabbed her hair, pulling her down to the floor. She screamed in pain and shock, ripping at his hand with her nails. He did not budge. He grabbed at her neck to silence her, and she could feel the bruises forming under his fingers. She choked and sputtered for air as he ranted and raved, shouting obscenities and curses. She was beginning to lose her vision when she put her hands on the arm that was crushing her windpipe and channeled herself into him.

The scream he let out was unlike anything Amaya had ever heard. She smelled the burning flesh before she saw it, and released Avulstein's arm, pulling away from him with the speed of an elk running from the hunt. She put herself on the other side of the table before she risked looking at him. He was gripping his seared skin and alternating between screaming and cussing. Amaya could still hardly breathe. Her neck felt broken, though she knew it wasn't. Avulstein had also managed to give her a bloody nose in the scrap. He looked at her through tear-soaked eyes and stood. Bracing herself by backing into the wall behind her, she raised her hand, ready for his attack.

The first thing he did was throw the bottle of Firebrand Wine at her. It missed her, narrowly, but it did distract her enough for Avulstein to lunge over the table. His arms wrapped tightly around her, pinning her arms to her sides. She kicked and swung as best as she could, but he did not loosen his grip. She bit down, do hard she drew blood, but to no avail. He turned and slammed her into the wall. She felt herself grow lightheaded as he did it twice more, and when her vision began to fade once more, she sucked her breath in.

"Fus- Ro- Dah!" she spoke, her voice booming against him as she did. They each flew backwards, crashing into the table. As it flattened underneath them, Avulstein released her from his arms, and she flew from Proudspire Manor as fast as she could. By the time she made it to the road, guards had already begun pooling around the lower entrance to the home. She all but fell as she reached the bottom step. One guardsman raised her from her sunken position, supporting her weight as he spoke to her, asking what had happened. She could taste the blood pouring from her broken nose as she spoke, recounting what had happened as best as she could. Guards seized Avulstein immediately. Both she and Avulstein were escorted elsewhere; Avulstein, to the prison at Castle Dour and Amaya, to her chambers in the Blue Palace.

As soon as the doors to the palace swung open, Ulfric took Amaya from the guard. He carried her to her chambers, placing her on her bed as the guard told him what had happened. She felt as if she was slipping in and out of consciousness as they spoke. Ulfric ordered the guard to summon a healer from the tower at Castle Dour immediately. The last thing she remembered before falling into blackness was Ulfric taking her hand, whispering to her: "Stay with me, Amaya. Sovngarde can wait. Stay with me."

When she next awoke, Amaya felt as if she had been run over by a carriage. Her eyes opened, and she heard voices. As everything came into focus, she realized that it was Ulfric, speaking to someone. They spoke on Amaya's condition. Neither, she assumed, were looking at her. She closed her eyes once more, listening.

"She could wake up at any moment. There was no permanent damage, thankfully. Had she been anyone but the Dragonborn, I'd imagine that may not be the case," the woman said, likely a healer. "Her head injuries are all healed, thanks to modern magic. The only things left to heal are her nose and her ribs, which an accomplished healer such as herself can surely do on her own. I have done all I can."

"Thank you, Elaile. She likely would not have survived were it not for you. You have my eternal gratitude," Ulfric replied. There came no response. She could hear the woman open and close the door, leaving Ulfric and Amaya alone in her chambers.

She opened her eyes slowly. The lights flooded her vision once more, and it took a few moments of blinking to readjust. She felt Ulfric's hand still present in hers, just as she had remembered. She gave it a slight squeeze, and he looked up from his lap in astonishment.

"You're awake. Thank the Gods. How are you feeling?" he asked, quietly.

"As if I have been crushed by a dragon," she replied, surprised by how hoarse her voice sounded. He reached for the glass of water on her bedside table, handing it to her. She looked at him gratefully, sipping slowly. Her throat felt raw and she grimaced as she drank. Ulfric's brows came together at her pain.

"Much better than I imagine I would have been if you had not acted so quickly," she amended, hoping to help him feel even slightly better.

"It is hard to not be prepared when you hear the Dragonborn's Thu'um echo throughout your city at eleven o'clock at night. I knew something must be terribly wrong. At first, I thought perhaps we were under attack. When I saw you, I knew differently. You're lucky that he… That he did not-"

"I know. There's no need to say it. Where is he?"

"In the dungeon, awaiting execution. Attacking a royal Thane with intent to kill is punishable by death, after all. After seeing you like this-"

"How long have I been incapacitated for?"

"About three days. He was in court the day after it happened. Jordis has been taking care of your home in the meantime. After seeing the house in the state it was when she arrived on-scene, the guards directed her here. She came directly here, and I have never seen a woman more livid. I thought she'd march herself to the gallows and hang him herself."

"She's a good woman. When is his… The… The execution set for?"

"As soon as you were well enough. It is lawful and necessary that we hear your side of the story, before executing him. So," he started, handing her a cloth for her cut mouth. She sat up slowly as he sat and looked at her nose. She held the cloth over her cut gingerly.

"What happened, Amaya?" he asked softly, applying pressure to her nose to stop the bleeding that had begun with her rising.

"He was drunk. I came home to find him and Lisette together," she responded, wiping stray flecks of blood as she spoke.

"The bard?"

"Yes. They've been at it for quite some time, I suppose."

"When I spoke to him in the cells, he mentioned nothing of that. Go on."

"May I?" she asked, and he moved his hands away from her face. Placing her thumb and pointer on either side of her nose, she squeezed slightly as light began to emanate from her fingertips. The sickening crunch of bones moving back together, back into place, followed. Ulfric cringed slightly as she moved on to her mouth, using a similar spell on her split lip. She stood slowly, cracking her neck and stretching her back before waving for Ulfric to walk with her. Her body felt stiff, and she wanted to walk about. Her ribs ached in protest, and she placed her hands over them lightly. Ulfric watched in minor terror as the light returned to her fingers, and Amaya smiled.

"Come here," she said, and he approached her with no small amount of caution. She took his hands and placed them gently over her ribs. She then placed her own over his, continuing her process. He half-smiled and half-groaned in disgust as he felt the magic flow through his hands and into Amaya's body. The ribs, which at first had felt misplaced, pulled themselves to their rightful positions as she went on. He felt the slight popping of bones mending back together. When she finished, she released him. She told the story as they roamed the halls of the Blue Palace like ghosts in the halls, and when she was done, they had gone to Ulfric's chambers to sign paperwork related to the execution.

"So then, what are we going to do? I know you do not likely want this, but I am of the opinion that there is no one more deserving of the headman's axe than that man," Ulfric pandered, hoping that Amaya would respond in agreement.

"What will killing him accomplish? His daughters will be robbed of a father. His brother and sister, robbed of a beloved sibling. I will ask that he sits in that cell for one more night. I ask that you strip him of his titles, and send him home to Whiterun, with his parents. That is sufficient punishment, to me. Alright?" Amaya responded, much to Ulfric's chagrin.

"No, it is not alright. Sending him away will solve nothing. He will come back. And he will do this again. As your king I cannot allow-"

"As my king you cannot allow a decorated war hero to handle her own problems, apparently. I am here because you asked for my opinion. If this is too much for you, I will not go, and you can kill that man without my blessing. Kings do not meddle in family affairs, and as a citizen of Skyrim you are overstepping your boundaries, High King."

"I'm not going to sit idly by until he kills you!"

"Would you do this for any woman in Skyrim, then? Would you have all the drunks arrested, their lives probed, would you make sure every poor woman in Skyrim was safe from their husband?"

"You know I cannot do that."

"And I know that you cannot do that for me, either. Ulfric, send him to Whiterun."

"I can't," he said, his eyebrows furrowed, "I cannot. You cannot let that man leave here, you cannot let him make a mockery of you in your own marital bed, you cannot let him lay one more finger on you. I cannot let him leave the dungeon, Amaya, and I cannot send you to slaughter again. I am not willing to do that. There has to be another way."

"There isn't. I cannot condone his death," Amaya replied, shifting the door open slightly. Ulfric gently pushed it closed, much to Amaya's dismay. He asked her to sit down, calm herself. She did not sit. Ulfric sighed heavily.

"Please, work with me. I do not want to see you back here like this again."

"I cannot sign his life away. We are not gods, Ulfric. Only They can decide to take his life."

They spoke on the matter for hours after, going over every single detail, from the first argument to the most recent violent happening. They tried to think of ways to annul the marriage. They tried to think of ways to have a priest sanction a divorce. They thought of everything they could, and still, there were no definitive answers. The frustration showed plainly on Ulfric's brow, and Amaya was not faring much better. She looked at him, straight on, directly into his face. In an effort to calm them both, he reached out to her. His hand rose to trace the faint outline of a scar on her cheek, and he wondered what had done that to her.

"Was this from before? I have never noticed it," he said absently. "It looks older."

"I got it from a Khajiit that sided with the Imperials. Fought unarmed. He managed to catch my face before I cut his head off," she answered, not minding the feeling of his fingers against her face. Her heart skipped slightly as they neared the end of the scar, close to her lips.

"A good kill. Clean, I bet. That dragon bone sword of yours is like a razor's blade."

"It was. Ulfric, you're-"

"Sorry," he said, taking his hand from her face. "I wasn't thinking. My apologies."

"No, it's not… It's not that. I was going to say that you're lucky, no bad scars."

"None on my face, no. I am lucky," he said, looking away from her. She was distinctly aware of how close they were, barely two feet apart. He could see her scars, her freckles, her whole face. In the candlelight she looked a bit magical, her blue eyes dancing with the flicker of the candles.

"I should probably get some rest. You, too," Amaya spoke, but she made no move to leave. Ulfric realized that she was waiting for something, a good night or a protest, a yes or a no. He watched as her lips parted to speak, but his mouth was on hers before she could.

There was no resistance. She pulled him close to her, her body against his, and he could all but feel her heart beating against him. It was too much to bear. His arms wrapped around her, one in her hair, the other on the small of her back. She broke their kiss to catch her breath, but returned it just as quickly, and her hands found the ties of his cape. Deftly, without looking, she untied it and it fell to the floor. Her hands found his belt, next; she tugged at the buckle, undoing it, but he gave her no time to pull him lose. Her dress was corset laced in the back; he had felt it as he held her to him. He spun her around, reaching for a knife with one hand while cupping her hip in the other. He cut down the dress like butter, pulling the back out, and watching it fall to the floor before him. He spun her around again, and she faced him in all of her glory.

He scarcely had time to look at her, this woman who he had worked alongside for years, this woman he had loved for what felt like a lifetime, before she pulled his tunic over his head. Wriggling out of his trousers, he pulled her into his bed. The sensation of skin on skin contact made his heart pound, and her mouth covered his once more. The kiss was passionate, wanton; she pressed into him, their bodies parallel, turned to each other, close. He pushed her onto her back, raising himself on his elbow, his right hand sliding down to find her entrance.

She was already wet when he felt her, and when he pushed a single finger inside of her, she moaned like she had been waiting for years. He savored the sound, his member already hard. He pushed gently in and out of her, and her hips bucked for more against him. He obliged, adding another finger, and she shook slightly. She was breathing into his neck hard, her breath ragged, needing. He wanted to take her, wanted to press himself inside of her, kiss her as he went. When she pushed his fingers out of her and climbed on top of him, he was surprised.

She slowly kissed her way down to his member, which drove him mad. When she took him into her mouth, he sighed wildly, a feeling he had wanted, needed even, finally his to enjoy. She worked his length slowly at first, pacing herself, finding rhythm. When she began to speed up, her pace perfect, he thought he would be undone right there. Letting her go for a moment longer, he pulled her off of him, positioning himself over him, his cock at her entrance.

"Are you sure?" he asked breathlessly, wanting to confirm their mutual agreement.

"I've never been surer," she answered, grinding slightly against him in confirmation. He would not wait a moment longer. He would finally take her, and he would finally give himself away to her. He had waited so long.

He went slowly into her, the head of his cock brushing against her clit before he went in. The feeling was absolute euphoria, and Amaya's back arched as all eight inches of him pushed inside her. She stretched around him slightly, still tight from a year's worth of celibacy, and it was glorious. As Ulfric began to pump in and out of her, the moaning increased. He felt nails on his back, grabbing, pulling, scratching at him. When her pussy had given way to all of him, he lifted a single leg, giving him access to what we wanted; her clit. He massaged it with two fingers, feeling Amaya tighten and release around his cock. He pumped harder, steadier, a rhythm that would pave the way to her orgasm.

"Harder," she whimpered, her eyes glazed with the residue of pre-orgasmic lust. "Fuck me harder."

He did. His cock pumped in and out of her, and he leaned down, angling himself to find her g-spot. When the position was perfect, he slammed into her, fingers still working her clit. She all but screamed, her orgasm imminent, nails ripping at his lower back. As he slammed into her one more time, she came, her pussy becoming a vice around his cock. He groaned in exultation; he was close to an orgasm of his own.

Her pussy still pounding, Amaya pushed Ulfric over, laying him flat on his back. Straddling him, she pushed him inside of her once more, moaning as the head passed into her. She ground her hips onto him, feeling him deep inside of her, his groans echoing through the room. She picked up her speed, moving herself back and forth, up and down on his dick. She allowed herself to rise and fall, dropping onto him, and she could tell that he was nearing his end. His breath was ragged, his eyes were desperate. She gave him what he wanted. Picking up just a bit more, she leaned forward and took the length of his cock in and out of her, keeping the pace. His hands clasped her hips, and he groaned as he came inside of her, deep within. She tumbled off of him, his seed spilling out of her.

After they had cleaned up, they lay intertwined- still naked- in Ulfric's bed. His fingers in her hair as she lay on his chest, listening to his heartbeat slowly return to normal. It felt natural, lying in each other's arms. Unafraid and completely devoted, they laid in comfortable silence. Ulfric kissed Amaya's forehead as she traced the lines of the scars on his chest and stomach. It was pure and simple peace, a moment shared between lovers, a moment of nothing but each other.

"I love you," Ulfric whispered, breaking the silence. The air felt heavy as he waited for her response, a response he had waited to hear for years.

"I love you, too," she whispered, and just like that, the deed was done. If she was not to be his queen, then no one would be. If he could not call her his wife, and hear her call him her husband, then there was no reason for him to seek any queen.

"What of your husband?" he asked, finally, dreading the question.

"There must be a way. There must be. We are no better than him, now."

"We didn't try to murder him, Amaya."

"I'm aware."

"If anyone can dissolve the marriage, it's the High King of Skyrim. But it will not be easy. He will fight to kill you. He will fight to keep you for himself."

"Will you?"

"With everything I have left, I will fight for you, Talos guide me."

"Talos guide us both," she said, kissing just below his collarbone. "We will need him in the battles to come."


	6. Chapter 6 - Blood in the Water

The days after their liaison passed quickly, but certainly not with grace. Ulfric rescinded Avulstein's death sentence, instead moving him to a regular cell, allowing for visitors and other social calls. He stripped him of his Thane-hood, his titles, and his rights to any of Amaya's property. He was also asked to forfeit custody of the daughters he had helped raise, which was of no small importance to Amaya herself. If he had hurt her, she knew he could hurt them, too. She explained this to both daughters individually; Sofie, upon her return to Solitude for a short holiday. She had greeted the news with shock and anger, much as Amaya had predicted she would. She readily signed her papers, a formal request to be released from his custody. Lucia, on break from her classes at the College, had taken the news much harder. She eventually signed her own papers over, but not before waiting a full fortnight to do so. Just before she was due to return to Winterhold for the duration of her classes, she hugged her mother tightly, and gave her signature before her mother wished her a safe journey.

Avulstein, for his part, had been predominantly passive-aggressive. He had ordered for flowers to be left at Amaya's door for a week, he had sent dozens of letters apologizing, and he had even staged a scene that was meant to capture Amaya's attention. He had paid a woman from out of town to stand in the courtyard of the Blue Palace and wail out "Justice! Fair trial for the man you accuse! Who are you to choose his fate?" and the like, to which Avulstein sent a courier to- loudly- ask to woman to leave. The courier stated that Avulstein had indeed been at fault, per his own words, and had asked the woman to silence herself, as he was in mourning over the loss of his relationship. The woman flourished dramatically and fell repentant at the courier's feet, begging forgiveness, which the courier gave after a moment. The entire court grumbled in unison at the display, which was promptly written off.

When the day came for Avulstein to be escorted back to Whiterun, Amaya herself arrived at Castle Dour. Avulstein was seated in the back of a covered carriage, surrounded on both sides by (and opposite from) the best guards that Ulfric could find. Another was at the front of the cart, readying his horse for the journey. As Amaya approached the back of the cart, Avulstein looked up from his bound hands. He seemed to jump slightly at her arrival.

Suited in a dark blue long dress with white lace trimmings, white gloves, and an attached hood pulled over her head to protect her identity, she looked to be the image of dignity and class. In her hands, she held a large stack of paperwork for her estranged husband. The stack included copies of Sofie and Lucia's requests for custodial dismissal, a request for dissolution of marriage signed by Maramal of Riften and by the High King himself, lists of properties and objects held by Amaya that Avulstein would not be entitled to, among other personal documents (i.e. his birth records, his family tree, etc.). She handed the large stack, bound by twine, to the guard opposite her husband.

"Please make sure that he has been read all of these documents before his arrival. They are of the utmost importance. High King Ulfric will also reward you personally for each paper he signs after your narration, so long as he does not do so under duress. Remember, we have eyes and ears everywhere. But we have the utmost trust and faith in you, soldier. Make sure this man gets where he is going. Gods-speed," Amaya spoke. The guard half smiled as he saluted her, tucking the papers under his arm as he did so. Amaya then turned to Avulstein.

"Remember, darling; eyes and ears everywhere. Should you escape, we will find you. Should you harm these men, we will find you. _We will always find you_. Understood?" she stated emphatically, no emotion betrayed by her face. All Avulstein could do was nod. Stepping back slightly, Amaya gave a whistle, and the cart jolted forward. She watched it go. She heard the city gates open and close as it passed through them, and she knew she was safe.

Later that evening, as she sat awake in her bedroom in Proudspire Manor, she was jolted awake by a loud pounding at her upper door. Pulling on her housecoat before descending the stairs, she arrived in the kitchen in time to see Jordis speaking to a town guard. She seemed angry, insistent. She was not going to let the man through without knowing what was going on; she had said so a multitude of times. Amaya stepped behind her and spoke, and both parties silenced.

"Do you know what time it is? What is the meaning of this intrusion?" she asked, alarmed.

"Ma'am, I am sorry, but we are collecting all of the High King's court. If you would both dress quickly and follow me, all will be explained in short order."

Amaya and Jordis exchanged quick glances before hurrying to their rooms, Amaya pulling on a court dress and Jordis, her armor. The guard led them down the steps, to where a mass of guards stood. They escorted Amaya and Jordis to the palace, weapons drawn. Once they were inside, the doors were closed behind them. Amaya heard the distinct click of locks as she walked up the steps to the throne, where a group of frightened people stood talking in hushed tones. She heard the impressive boom of the dragon bone – a bone salvaged from the dragon Mirmulnir, and fashioned for its purpose after Farengar had studied the bones at length- door-bar slide into place behind her, as well. Even the windows had all been drawn shut, locked, and covered. She wondered what had happened, and began to fear for Ulfric, until she saw him across the room. He approached her swiftly, placing hands on her shoulders and looking down at her with no small amount of relief on his face.

"What's happened?" she asked quietly.

"I am about to tell everyone. Know that you are safe," Ulfric replied, which only increased her anxieties. Ulfric took his leave from her, and sat in his throne. The room quieted as he did. He began to speak.

"Thank you all for being here. Let us begin. Very early this morning, only about an hour ago, Titus Mede II was found dead aboard the Imperial vessel _Katariah_. This has left the Empire open for attack, and multiple sightings of Thalmor troops have been reported to be around the border of Cyrodiil and Valenwood. While Skyrim has proven Herself to be free and independent of the Empire, the fact remains that Cyrodiil is on our own southernmost border. An Imperial courier arrived only a short time ago to warn us. It seems we find ourselves, once again, on the edge of another war. I have summoned the court here to immediately decide what we shall do," Ulfric stated, matter-of-factly. The room stood in shocked silence. Amaya was the first to speak.

"We must call upon the Holds closest to the border. They must immediately line the border with troops, and have patrols going all twenty-four hours of the day. Jarl Dengeir of Stuhn and Jarl Laila Law-Giver must be notified immediately," she started. Greta wrote furiously as Amaya spoke, and continued as she went on. Ulfric was nodding at his steward to continue as she did. "And we must… We must ready our own troops. The Aldmeri Dominion will not take us," she finished. Greta had finished writing out two sheets of what Amaya had assumed was a declaration of support for both Jarls Dengeir and Laila, and had since handed them over to a stern-looking soldier in full Stormcloak heavy armor. The door bar was raised, the locks undone, and the man all but ran through the streets. Once the door was resealed, Amaya spoke again.

"We must also decide on a more complicated issue. Now that Skyrim has earned Her independence, it must be decided what we will do – or not do, as it may be – for those that once ruled over us. Cyrodiil has not requested assistance as of yet, but should the situation escalate further, they may require it. Are we to aid them, or are we to protect ourselves first?" she asked. Ulfric looked at her in mild surprise, having not expected her remarks.

"The wellbeing of the Empire is not our concern. Skyrim and our own people are. We will focus on the home front," he stated, curt and short. "I am immediately declaring every soldier active. Every Jarl is to be notified of this by the time the sun rises. I want all guards on red alert. Those Holds on the border, their guards will return once reinforcements reach them. I want soldiers on patrol at all times. I want all forts to be restocked and fortified. I want that damn Thalmor Embassy burned to the ground. And lastly, I want a curfew instated throughout this land to keep our people safe. I want all taverns closed for business by nine o'clock and all citizens inside, with locked or barred doors, by ten o'clock. Anything else?" he finished, looking about. When no one spoke, he dismissed everyone, bidding all to feel free to sleep within the palace, should they so wish. Jordis returned home, but Amaya stayed. She walked to her chambers, feeling Ulfric on her trail. Once the rabble had ceased and all was quiet once more, Ulfric made his way into her room.

"We can't leave them all to die," Amaya began. "We're free of the Empire. We've gotten what we wanted. There's no need to let them all die, Ulfric," she said. Ulfric crossed his arms and sighed.

"They have not even requested aid yet. We are not even sure that they will. Perhaps they can fend for themselves."

"The Aldmeri Dominion is strong; stronger than the Empire, especially without an Emperor. If we are going to survive an attack by the Dominion, we will need Cyrodiil to be still-standing."

"We will wait. We will see how credible this threat is, and act from there."

"It will be too late if we wait. They could be readying for an attack _now_."

"An attack on Cyrodiil, remember. Between the mountains on our eastern border, the Sea of Ghosts to the north, and Hammerfell to the west, the only way the Dominion can reach us is through the seat of the Empire in the south. We have time."

"Every moment we waste is another that the Aldmeri Dominion has to plan, Ulfric."

"What would you have me do? Declare war, ask the Empire for assistance, and plan to attack the Summerset Isles? Then what? We cannot best them in naval combat. We cannot fly over the sea to them."

"We need to find out exactly what we are facing! We must find out who killed the Emperor, why, and how. We must figure out the Dominion's weak spots and exploit them. We must find a way to reach them, and crush them before they destroy everything we hold dear. We must have our very best people on these jobs, and we must be willing to do anything to protect Skyrim. What don't you understand about that?"

"We don't even know the full extent of the situation yet! Why start a war after we ended one the year passed? These things require tact and delicacy, we cannot rush them."

"Three days; I am giving you three days to act on this situation before I do, alright? After that, I will start acting myself."

"Your place is here, Amaya."

"My place is wherever my people need me to be. Certainly not rotting away in a palace while they prepare to be butchered in their homes."

"I would not let that happen. You know that to be true."

"Do I?" Amaya spat, and Ulfric looked at her in silence. He continued to look at her as she gathered a few potions and maps together on the table, saying nothing. Eventually, she turned to him and sighed heavily. "I am sorry," she whispered, a hand on his chest, "that was unworthy of me."

"I have only just been able to hold on to you so far. You were always with my best and brightest fighters. You were always where I could find you. Should you go, I cannot protect you. I will not know if you are safe, or if you are alive, even. A war brought you to me, and I do not want a war to take you from me. If I am to do what is best for Skyrim, then I must know that you are with me," he returned, his hands on either side of her face.

"I am always with you."

They embraced tightly. Amaya stepped out of her dress and into Ulfric's arms and they made passionate love until the sun raised, low over the mountainsides. When finally their eyes closed they were entangled in lover's rest and bed sheets, their steady breathing music for the birds outside the window. Somewhere on the border of Cyrodiil and Valenwood, a soldier's last sight would never be reported. The bodiless head of an Imperial Guard lay unblinking amongst the strewn limbs and entrails of his comrades, and the sound of heavy boots on the earth called out a dirge to the earliest rays of sunlight.


	7. Chapter 7 - Darker Days

Three days passed. The Dark Brotherhood had been discovered to have been the hand of the machine that had murdered the Emperor, but not the brain or the mouth. The latter had been a man named Amaund Motierre; he had paid the Dark Brotherhood to kill the Emperor. The Brotherhood had not asked why the man had wanted Mede dead, and so none of them had known. They were still executed after their capture; Sofie's unit had been present, along with four Penitus Oculatus soldiers, as they entered the sanctuary from its "secret" entrance on the outskirts of Dawnstar. They had killed all but two of the members within; a child-like vampire called Babette and an uncooperative Redguard named Nazir, whom they captured. Even after days of relentless torture, neither had broken, and were then sentenced to death. They had been publically beheaded in the Imperial City. Guards in the city of Whiterun had found Amaund Motierre's lifeless body laying cold in the Bannered Mare, a single arrow through his left eye.

The brain of the operation had not been found. Many suspected the Thalmor, naturally; their patrols had been spotted throughout Cyrodiil, and there had even been evidence of recent departure from the Thalmor Embassy in Skyrim. When Ulfric's soldiers ransacked it before burning it to the ground, they had found one thing: An Imperial in Stormcloak armor strung up by his entrails in one of the holding cells. There was a note fixed to his chest by a dagger, which simply read "You're all the same." It was enough to put anyone on edge, and that was certainly the case for every single person living in Skyrim.

Amaya had received multiple letters from Esbern. He had requested to speak to her, citing that he had "valuable information" that could not be relayed via written correspondence. She had not been to Skyhaven Temple since she had refused to kill Paarthurnax. Delphine had scoffed at her, calling her foolish and misguided. Amaya remembered how her fist had ached for a day, after she had punched Delphine square in the nose. She remembered how red the blood that sprang from it was. She had known it was not the most tactful move on her part, but it had certainly been the most relieving. She had left the Blades to fend for themselves since then. When the first letter from Esbern arrived, Amaya had been hesitant to respond. When, on the third day of waiting for new developments, another letter arrived Amaya was more interested and determined than ever.

Ulfric had been quite adamant about Amaya staying in Solitude since the night of the Emperor's assassination. He had assigned extra guards to both her house and her chambers at the palace. He had insisted on sleeping in the same bed as her, propriety and discretion be damned. When she came to him, asking to at least send someone to Skyhaven Temple to see how credible Esbern's information was, Ulfric bristled almost immediately. Sitting in Ulfric's chambers, at the table, the room was dark with the blackness of night. A single candle lit their faces as they spoke.

"Amaya, from the sound of it, that man knows nothing valuable about anything at all. He hid in Riften's sewers for how many years? I will not waste resources chasing a rumor," he said, sounding quite sure of himself.

"What, pray tell, are you doing with your resources? You are pursuing zero leads at this moment, so far as I know," Amaya retorted.

"My forces are stationed at our borders, in our major cities, and in our towns. We have ferreted out the Dark Brotherhood, for the Gods' sake. Don't be ridiculous. I am doing everything I can to keep this land safe."

"It is not enough. Somehow the Thalmor managed to slip both into and out of their embassy here, in Skyrim, without detection. If someone has information, even if it turns out to be less than helpful, at least we will have done everything we can."

"I said no. That is my final answer."

"You cannot stop me, Ulfric. I think we both know that," Amaya blurted. Ulfric sighed, rubbing his temples, his head in his hands. He said nothing. When his head rose, he stretched out a hand, and Amaya took it. He kissed her fingers lightly, and then pressed her palm to his cheek. He held her there for a moment before he stood.

"I know that I cannot stop the Dragonborn from escaping the Blue Palace. Just know that I do not condone this. I wish you would stay here."

"So you can keep an eye on me?"

"So I know you are safe."

"I will be safe. I promise I will."

"Do not think that I am allowing you to go. I am not removing the extra guards. I am not leaving you alone at night. I will still be watching, hoping that we can stop you, somehow. I just know in my heart that we will all fail."

"You never know."

"You had better come back to me, Amaya. I want you to come back with your shield, not under it. Do you understand me?"

"Of course I'm coming back. I'll come back with a plan to keep Skyrim safe."

"So long as you come back. That is all I am asking. We could likely figure out a way to keep safe while you stayed here."

"Do that while I'm gone, then. Try to sleep. Try to eat. Don't get yourself killed while I'm gone, either. Listen to Greta and Thorald. They wouldn't steer you wrong."

"You sound like you are about to walk out the palace doors now," Ulfric said, wrapping an arm around his beloved. Amaya half smiled, leaning her mouth into the base of his throat.

"Not without saying goodbye," she whispered, her lips pressing softly against his skin. Goosebumps rose on his arms as her hands made their way down his chest and stomach. Her mouth followed their trail, and his hands found her hair as she descended. She pried his belt loose from its fasteners, taking him into her mouth. She worked back and forth with mouth and hands, and Ulfric moaned lowly as she went.

They were soon in Ulfric's bed, entangled in each other. The feeling of skin-on-skin drove them mad; their kisses were emblazoned, passionate, needing. When they needed more, it came. Ulfric found her wanting, and gave in to her wish. Their moans were a swan song to Mara herself, an ode to passionate and unending love. This was the love that had founded all love, the eternal parentage of true and immeasurable devotion. They were entirely and completely alone in the world during these moments, and stayed that way until satisfaction found them both. As they collapsed, panting, into each other's arms, they found the very last thing either had expected to find from the other in the years before. They found the completion of themselves when next to each other, two separate halves of one refined whole. They knew, in that moment, that neither could truly exist without the other. So it was that, when Ulfric reached for the pitcher of water next to him on the side table, away cringed internally. He fell deeply asleep shortly after taking his cup's worth, and she kissed him gently on the forehead, and whispered, "I will come back to you."

She quickly pulled her travelling clothes out from under the bed, where she had hidden them earlier in the day. She knew there would be at least two guards directly outside Ulfric's door, but she also knew that they had been commanded to respond and search for anything that seemed suspicious. Amaya had also overheard Ulfric relaying a specific message to his Captain of the Guard; "If you hear any noise, be it footsteps, a door creak, or even a cup drop, you investigate. No one gets in, no one gets out." She knew this, of course, would make things quite a bit more difficult. Luckily, she was also particularly skilled in evading things she did not want to face. She had a plan.

" _Zul – Mey – Gut!"_ she said, the Thu'um taking her voice to the stairs, travelling down. She heard the guards jump, shift, and scurry quickly away to investigate. As soon as they did, she opened the door, stepping silently into the shadows. She had enchanted her travelling clothes to be as silent as possible, and the guards were distracted.

" _Laas – Yah – Nir,"_ she whispered, having waited long enough to regain her voice. Her vision glowed blue. It revealed three more guards standing close enough for discomfort to her, and two more guarded the front door. _Gods, I hope this works,_ she thought as she continued to creep along silently. She was quickly approaching the least stable part of her plan, and her anxieties were mounting.

She had made her way to the very edge of the stairs that lead to the palace doors, and she could feel the Thu'um she herself had crafted stuck in her throat. If it did not work, she would likely not have another chance to escape. She sucked in her breath, readying herself before saying the Words of Power:

" _Feim – Rii – Frul."_

And she walked down the stairs. She was hesitant at first, but when she stood fully, no one looked her way. Her descent down the steps was silent, despite her stride; she all but ran as she went. When she reached the front doors, she placed both hands on one, and pushed her way through it. The door did not even creak as she stepped through, into the front garden. She had done it. She was out.

Her trip out of Solitude itself went much the same. She made it out of the front gates by using the same Shout, and she was already riding down the road in a wagon destined for Markarth. She was to meet Esbern himself at the stables, where she would then travel to Sky Haven Temple with him. They would speak along the way, naturally, but Esbern had assured her that he had access to vital information that she must see to believe. As she sat in the back of the cart, her cloak hood up, dozing off, she thought of her final moments with her beloved before her departure. Laying in his arms as he fell off into sleep had been so peaceful, and his bed had been so comfortable and warm. She knew he would be livid that she had put a sleeping potion in his water, but she knew that what she was doing was for the best. Ulfric's resources had simply been stretched too thin. This had been her only choice, her only chance to help her people.

In Solitude, dawn came slowly and groggily. Ulfric knew that something was wrong as soon as his eyes opened. He felt hazy, much as he did after taking the potions Amaya mixed for him. _Damn,_ he thought, sitting up. There was only a small slip of paper next to him, laying where Amaya should have been. He picked it up. On the front, all it said was, "Feim – Rii – Frul. Fade – Essence – Temporary. Test One: Nearly fell through the wall. Very loud. What happens if I whisper it? Test Two: Better. Noticed slight motion sickness after wear out. Perhaps I should practice more. Test Three: This will have to do." The handwriting matched Amaya's, and Ulfric was incredulous. He flipped the paper, hoping to find more information. All he read was "I am gone. Do not look for me. I am sorry." A few lines of nothing lead to the final line, very low on the page.

"I love you. I'm coming back, with my shield."

Ulfric readied himself as fast as he could. When his doors flung open, the guards knew they were going to have to answer for Amaya's disappearance. Ulfric looked absolutely furious. When he turned to them, they had expected biting criticism and swift punishment. What they received, however, was ultimately the opposite. Ulfric asked them if they had heard or seen anything. They spoke of how they had heard a noise that had sounded much like Enchantress Amaya in the very early morning hours. When they had investigated, they had not found anything. When Ulfric had left his room in a furor, they knew that it was likely that they should have found something. He issued an order to search the town as question locals, but in his heart, he knew she was gone. His anger, in time, became heartbreak. He did not sleep well the following night, and when he did, he dreamt of his lover walking silently through the woods.

Something was following her.


	8. Chapter 8 - Duty Bound

Amaya had made it to Markarth with no trouble. Her heart was heavy, and she was exhausted, but still undeterred. As her carriage stopped at the trough – the horse undoubtedly thirsty – Amaya slipped silently from the back of the cart. She placed fifty septims on her seat behind her, pulled up the hood on her cloak, and walked silently into the night. She could see the light of a torch burning dully in the evening light, and made her way towards it. The closer she got, the more she could make out; while still obscured, she could see an elderly man clad in what appeared to be armor, holding the reigns of two horses with one hand, and a torch with the other. When she was sure of his identity, Amaya stepped out of the shadows, and walked to greet the man. Esbern smiled widely as she came into view.

"Amaya, it is lovely to see you," he said, gesturing for her to take a set of reigns from his hands.

"And you, Esbern. I only wish it were under different circumstances."

"As do I. Come, we should get moving. If we travel all night, we should be able to make it back to the temple before daybreak. It has certainly become dangerous to stay in the open for too long."

The trip back to Sky Haven Temple was filled with the ramblings of an endearing elderly man and his love for the study of the Blades glory days. It was only when they began to close in on the temple that Esbern's tone changed from lecturer to something darker, more mysterious, and quiet. He spoke of how the Blades had been quietly and cautiously rebuilding their numbers; they had selected new recruits, they had rebuilt Sky Haven Temple from the inside out, and they had even managed to equip and fully train a scouting party. They used this specialized force to move silently through Aldmeri territory, collecting information on the Thalmor as they went. The Blades had been hunted by the Thalmor for so long that even the oldest records did not show the rivalry's conception, and Esbern had finally made it a priority to ensure that his order would never be destroyed again. Esbern spoke of a contact the Blades had made in Skyrim who had come from within the Empire, moving from Bruma to study magic at the College of Winterhold not but six years ago. She had come with her sister, who had been a contact of Delphine's network. They had been prosecuted by the Thalmor, and had been separated upon entry into the province. The contact had gone on to study at the college, ultimately becoming the Archmage after a particularly twisted set of events, and had recently come to Esbern in a panic with information. As the temple came into view, Amaya saw the unmistakable sight of a man with a drawn bow and arrow, and nearly dispatched him with a swift fireball. Esbern simply whistled lowly, and the man lowered, coming forward. He was outfitted in Blades armor.

"Sentries. Smart idea," she whispered, and Esbern smiled.

"One can never be too cautious in a time like this, my dear," Esbern replied. They dismounted, and the man took their horses, leading them to an out-of-the-way forested overhang. Esbern explained that it lead to a secure path behind the temple, and into the courtyard, where the horses would be watered and fed. Amaya nodded. They were fast approaching the inner sanctum that was Sky Haven temple, and Amaya was eager to be indoors once more, where she felt significantly safer.

Esbern lead Amaya swiftly up the stairs. The place was warm, and much brighter than Amaya remembered it being. Torches lit the walkway as they ascended to the main hall, and feeling was slowly returning to Amaya's horseback-stiffened legs. She could feel aches and pain filling in from travel, and her eyelids felt heavy. In short, she was in need of rest. Esbern noticed this, as he was of a similar disposition. After a light meal, Esbern showed Amaya to a separately set room they had furnished off of the main sleeping quarters. Amaya fell happily into the bed, and without windows for the sun to wash through, slept easily until the following morning.

When next she joined Esbern, feeling much refreshed and reoriented, he was accompanied by Delphine. After their previous altercation, Amaya had certainly not looked forward to seeing her. She took note of the fact that Delphine's nose had bhealed to be somewhat more permanently hooked, and took joy in this small fact. Delphine, for her part, seemed utterly miserable in her presence. Esbern, sensing the tension, began speaking abruptly.

"I am very glad that you joined us here, in private, today. I was unsure if you would, after my first attempts at correspondence went unanswered. But luck would have it that you are here, so let us begin," he began. He spread out five letters and one journal before himself, and stepped aside. Amaya stepped forward, reading the lilting handwriting. The letters told the tale of a Breton woman who had taken on her deceased sister's duties as a contact for the Blades. After she had established herself in Skyrim, she had come to Esbern for help in locating her sister, who had been missing at that time for nearly four years. Esbern had explained that he responded in sorrow, reporting that her sister had died during an altercation. She had been apprehended by the Thalmor, brought to Helgen as a prisoner, and killed in the dungeons. The woman responded in resigned misery. She had suspected as much. Her hatred for the Thalmor burning brighter than ever before, she had become a contact of the Blades for personal reasons. After having a run-in with a Thalmor mage named Ancano in earlier years at the college, the woman had discovered an elaborate journal kept by the man, detailing his report on the college. She had been terrified that even one small scrap of the information within had made it back to the Thalmor homeland, and contacted Esbern to ensure her safety. His scouts had found no trace of the information within the dominion, and had returned since, ensuring the woman of her safety. She did, however, have more information on the Thalmor's plans than what she was willing to divulge via written correspondence. She had requested that the Blades send her their best agent to hear the information for themself, and do what they would with it. Esbern gestured toward the journal, which Amaya lifted, leafing through its contents. The information within was truly terrifying to behold. It spoke of plans to destroy mankind, and of an ancient artifact which may have possibly been the Eye of Magnus itself. The power that the Dominion could have had, had they located it, was truly too devastating a consequence to consider. As she finished reading, Delphine spoke.

"What more could Ysara truly have for us? What if it is this Ancano figure, rather than her, writing to us in an attempt to lure us into the open?"

"That is unlikely. They would not ask for a single nameless agent to retrieve the information, were that the case. They would have asked for you or I, don't you think?" Esbern responded brightly, and Delphine nodded slightly. She seemed displeased as Esbern went on. "Originally, I was going to send Delphine, but I find this quite risky. We are the only two remaining of the original Blades, and I will not live forever. If anything happens to her, the future of the Blades is in jeopardy. This is not a risk I am willing to take."

"So, you're more willing to gamble with my life, then?" Amaya scoffed.

"Hardly. We each have something to gain if I send you in Delphine's place. We each receive the information, rather than just the Blades. This way, we both profit."

"You are a smart man, Esbern."

"Thank you, my dear."

"If the happy reunion is over, I have recruits to train," Delphine said, exasperated. "I'll take my leave," she finished. She hardly had time to take a step before Esbern chastised her for her shortness, to which she did not respond.

"It seems that we find the bladed maiden in a sour mood today," Esbern quipped.

"Not so different than any other day, if I remember correctly," Amaya returned. Esbern chuckled.

"I suppose you may be correct. Anyways, let us return to the business at hand. You may wish to set out as soon as possible. It would seem that time is of the essence. The Thalmor are seeking a power source for their assault. We must act as quickly as possible."

"I could not agree with you more."

"Very good. I will have someone prepare a horse for you. We have also taken the liberty of washing and drying your travelling clothes, as well as outfitting your belt with a small satchel for dried foods, which we have filled. Do travel safely, my dear. The cold in that region is not nearly so deadly as those that wish you harm."

"You are too good to me. Stay safe, Esbern."

"I will do my best, as always. Good bye, Amaya – And good luck."

Meanwhile, in Solitude, the week passed without word from Amaya. All had since been quiet in the city, and Ulfric's attention was turned back to governing his people. There was still concern over the lack of an heir, as Ulfric was unmarried. Elisif the Fair had also been a hot topic as of late. Some of the remaining supporters of the Empire whispered amongst themselves, saying that if Elisif were to produce an heir and Ulfric did not, that child would have more claim to the throne than any. It had been assumed that the woman had been married off to an Imperial general for safety for quite some time now, and Ulfric grew tired of the talk of children and heirs rather quickly. He had done his best to push it out of his mind, until he was approached by an absolutely frantic Greta in the early morning hours before court.

"My King, there has been news," she spoke, her voice high with frenzy, "Elisif the Fair has been recovered in the Imperial City. They wish to turn her over to you as a show of good faith."

"That is… Quite the news, Greta. Return correspondence with my acceptance. It will be good to have her. I think I shall give her the option to swear fealty to me, rather than face execution. I think that perhaps it would put a stop to some of these ridiculous ravings of the public," Ulfric returned, thinking aloud. Greta sighed, looking down at her feet. When she began speaking again, her voice was taught with anxiety.

"My lord, you know I would never disrespect you, or wish you displeasure," she began, and Ulfric had to assure her before she would continue, "But, perhaps, you should court the woman. Before you lose yourself or dismiss the idea, please, listen. Marrying Elisif would neutralize her as a threat to your legitimacy as High King. Any children you might have will be the undisputed heirs to the throne. Not only that, but it will put the minds of the public at ease, both Imperial sympathizers and Stormcloak supporters alike. The queen will return to Solitude, to the people that loved her, and you will have a bride. The gossip will cease. Skyrim's future will be secured," Greta explained, furiously and quickly. Ulfric shook his head the entire time, and began walking away at the end of her ranting. He was caught off-guard when she next spoke.

"You can't marry her, Ulfric. Amaya is not going to be your bride!" she said angrily. "You wanted the future of this country to be safe and stable. Do what is right! The Dragonborn is simply not of your station. She was a commander in your army – under you. She was your court wizard – under you. She was a thane in your hold – under you. As impressive a woman as she may be, the fact still remains that her station lays beneath yours. You simply cannot have her. You must come to terms with that."

"That woman saved my life more times than I can count, Greta. Remember your place."

"Perhaps you should remember yours, King Ulfric. Or do you forget that politics are a part of ruling? Marrying a woman below your station, even if that woman is the Dragonborn, does not bode well for your offspring. Elisif's future children would have more claim than any you and Amaya would produce. Not to mention the fact that you, yourself, annulled her marriage. That would not look so tidy on paper, do you disagree?"

Ulfric stood in a stunned silence. Everything Greta had said had been the absolute last thing that Ulfric had wanted to hear, and yet, it all made perfect sense. All he could hear was Amaya's voice in his head, whispering, _listen to Greta and Thorald, they would not steer you wrong._ Ulfric swallowed hard, turning to his steward, and nodded.

"Call Thorald to my chambers, Greta. We must all discuss this," he said, his voice hardly a whisper. Shocked, Greta nodded, and turned on her heel. She could hardly believe he had agreed. She sent out a guard to collect Thorald, as Ulfric walked to his quarters. Closing the door, he sat motionless on the edge of his bed, head in hands. He could practically feel Amaya's heart shattering. He only hoped that he would be able to explain to her before she heard the news elsewhere. He only hoped that she would understand.


	9. Ancano's Journal Entries

PLEASE NOTE that this is not a chapter. Please go back and read chapter eight for this to make any sense. Enjoy!

* * *

4E 201, 3 Morning Star

Arrived yesterday, late. Snowing. Bitterly cold. Savos Aren, Archmage, seems weary of me. I will gain his trust.

4E 201, 17 Morning Star

Snowing, per usual. Aren still keeping me at arm's length. Smarter than we thought, perhaps.

4E 201, 21 Morning Star

A new student joined us today. Recognized her right away, thinking she was her elder sister. Ysara Hearthford, Breton Mage, sister of Blades informant and traitor to the Empire Elyn Hearthford. The resemblance is uncanny. I will certainly be keeping my eyes on her.

4E 201, 25 Morning Star

Hearthford seems completely harmless. Has a natural aptitude for magic, I will say that much, but harmless nonetheless. I have been keeping an eye on her post. Nothng to or from the Blades. Will continue surveillance as a precautionary measure.

4E 201, 3 Sun's Dawn

Students and two teachers descended into Saarthal today. Found nothing of note in the excavation. Hearthford is quickly becoming well liked around the College. She asks too many questions for my taste. Ervine and Aren speak about her incessantly.

4E 201, 8 Sun's Dawn

Fifth day of Saarthal excavations, and still no sign of any significant findings. Had a look around myself last night after everyone had gone to sleep. Found nothing out of the ordinary, besides an overwhelming feeling of strong magic. Perhaps it is seeping in from the college itself?

4E 201, 12 Sun's Dawn

Note to self: Make some Altmer cuisine for yourself. Nordic dishes are notoriously bland and dry.

4E 201, 18 Sun's Dawn

New development. Hearthford located a very powerful ancient artifact. Wrote the Dominion immediately. Awaiting orders.

4E 201, 24 Sun's Dawn

I am to harness the power of the object by any means necessary. Gods, guide me. The Leaders want the power to give life to our constructs. This will be the end of man. For the Dominion!

4E 201, 3 Rain's Hand

I smile when I think of the eventual return to our truer selves. I only hope that these men are as easy to dispose of as the Leaders think they will be. I have observed no reason to think otherwise.

4E 201, 9 Rain's Hand

Ms. Hearthford is certainly not her sister. After weeks of surveillance, she has been declared a non-threat. One less thing for me to focus on.

4E 201, 15 Rain's Hand

Made myself some stuffed nirn leaves today, finally. Boiled them in a reduction of the wine I brought from the Isles, and stuffed them with marinated fresh olives and tomatoes. Absolutely delicious.

4E 201, 18 Rain's Hand

Have made no notable progress in harnessing the power of the artifact. Running out of options.

4E 201, 19 Rain's Hand

All of my efforts to contain, or even absorb, the power of the artifact have been futile. Research shows that the item is likely the Eye of Magnus. The Dominion must have it. It was meant for us.

I fear I will likely have to attempt to use myself as a container for the magic, and hopefully live long enough to see it returned to the Dominion.


End file.
